


I still believe in heroes

by lostinthebookstore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Alternate Universe - My Hero Academia Fusion, Ashido Mina is a Good Friend, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, BAMF Bakugou Katsuki, BAMF Carol Danvers, BAMF Michelle Jones, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Wanda Maximoff, Bakugou Katsuki Can Sing, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Friend, Bakugou Mitsuki's Bad Parenting, Bisexual Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie & Loki Friendship (Marvel), Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Characters Are Pro Heroes (My Hero Academia), Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Coffee Addict Tony Stark, Crossover, Dancer Natasha Romanov, Deaf Bakugou Katsuki, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Fluff, Drummer Bakugou Katsuki, Dysfunctional Family, Emotionally Constipated Bakugou Katsuki, Established Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Gay Harley Keener, Hard of Hearing Bakugou Katsuki, Harley Keener & Peter Parker Friendship, Holidays, Jirou Kyouka is a Good Friend, Jirou Kyouka is in the Bakusquad, Kaminari Denki is a Good Friend, Kirishima Eijirou is a Good Friend, Kirishima Eijirou is a Good Significant Other, Languages and Linguistics, Lesbian Gwen Stacy, Lesbian Shuri (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Meme Lord Shuri (Marvel), Mental Instability, Miles Morales is a Little Shit, Nebula Has Issues (Marvel), Nebula is a Good Bro (Marvel), Peter Parker & Shuri Friendship, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki, Protective Gamora (Marvel), Russian Bakugou Katsuki, Russian Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sero Hanta is a Good Friend, Short Bakugou Katsuki, Sleepovers, Smart Bakugou Katsuki, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, basically they're all yelling in different languages it's great, catch me creating the entirety of "avengers & bakugou" tags, everyone is tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26775109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthebookstore/pseuds/lostinthebookstore
Summary: Bakugou Katsuki didn't expect to get a call from the number one hero agency in the world. In fact, he could still scarcely believe it. But as he flew over the North Pacific Ocean on a flight to New York, he was forced to confront the truth. Bakugou Katsuki was going to America, to be an Avenger.Not exactly the type of thing he had expected.
Relationships: Avengers Team & Spider-Gang, Bakugou Katsuki & Gwen Stacy, Bakugou Katsuki & Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Bakugou Katsuki & Nebula (Marvel), Bakugou Katsuki & Peter Parker, Bakugou Katsuki & Shuri (Marvel), Bakugou Katsuki & Tony Stark, Bakugou Katsuki & Wanda Maximoff, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Carol Danvers, Michelle Jones & Gwen Stacy, Nebula & Ava Starr, Nebula & Shuri (Marvel), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 47
Kudos: 449





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ;) catch me using a nick fury quote as my title bc i was diagnosed with Severe Dumbass Disease and can't think of my own titles

It wasn’t like Bakugou cared about when he got his phone call. In fact, he cared about it so little that he barely talked about it if not prompted. What was there to talk about anyway? He would be getting that call any day now, it didn’t matter that almost everyone else had gotten theirs. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care.

At the end of third year, everyone got a phone call from an agency, to become a sidekick, or something along those lines. It was the first leg up into the hero world after high school, and the bigger the hero, the better your chance of becoming a better hero. Even if you didn’t spend much time there, it would give you a name and a platform to start making your way up in the hero world. 

Kirishima was going to be a sidekick for Fatgum, something he was incredibly proud of. And Bakugou was proud of him too, he was happy for Eijirou. Really. Almost everyone had gotten their announcement by now, and everyone was going to amazing places. Uraraka was going to be working under Gunhead again, Mina and Sero were both going to the same hero agency for someone who’s quirk had something to do with fusions, and Denki was going to Ms Joke’s agency for reasons Bakugou didn’t really understand. 

He’d been stalking his phone for the past few days, waiting for the telltale ringtone noise of whatever explicit slightly punk-y song he’d set for it. It was terrifying waiting for the call, with every passing minute his fate was left up to more and more uncertainty. He was very aware of how it looked. Some desperate fool waiting for a phone call that would probably never come. Kirishima’s efforts to distract him hadn’t gone unnoticed- they were one of the only things keeping him sane, along with large amounts of caffeine and stress-induced hair braiding, but he always found himself sneaking back to his phone.

Currently Kirishima was lying across his lap, a barricade to stop him from obsessively scrolling through his contacts. Bakugou was absent-mindedly twisting the red strands of hair through his hands, the closest thing he could come to stress braiding without an immediate interversion from the so-called “bakusquad”. After living together for 2 years, they’d come to recognise his little mannerisms and what they meant. Everyone else was minding their own business, Denki talking to them animatedly about some kind of netflix show. Suddenly, the slightly muffled sound of green day blared out from his phone speakers and the common room fell silent. A squawk was emitted from everyone in the vicinity as the bakusquad scrambled to grab the phone, which had somehow fallen onto the floor. Denki stuck his arm under the sofa and yelled in triumph as he located the ringing device and threw it at Bakugou. He caught it easily and answered the call, hands steady as he cou;d make them. 

“Hello?”

\------------------------------

The assorted members of the class scattered around the common room watched with wide eyes as he paced around the room, listening to whoever he was on the phone with. Bakugou was the last person to get his phone call, and the entire class was on edge. What hero agency you went to basically determined your worth as a hero, and what would happen for the rest of your life. There was only a few weeks left of term, and the hero agencies had said the decisions would be made with plenty of time to decide and prepare. Everyone else had gotten theirs at least a week ago. That wasn’t a good sign for Bakugou. Regardless of his incredible grades, fighting power, strategic abilities and general competence and prowess in the field of hero work, some people just saw him as the same “villainous” kid from the sports festival. That was one of the things that got Kirishima really riled up- people thinking that about one of the people who was trying the hardest to be a hero was a villain. Sure, he may have been brittle and angry and touch-starved and could destroy your soul with withering sarcasm, but he’d grown and matured as a person and a hero. He wasn’t the same person he’d been in middle school anymore than Kirishima was. 

Regarding the decision of where you would go, it was actually a pretty big deal. The various hero agencies would have a bidding of sorts, a deal over who got who. If the hero student in question declined their offer for any reason, the student would then get an offer from the next hero who wanted them, and so on. In the past, students had declined offers from heroes for a variety of reasons, including location. Location was a big factor in choosing a hero agency- some people wanted to go to a place closer to their family and friends, others wanted to go far away, exploring japan and everything it had to offer.

As the person on the phone droned on, Bakugou's face remarkably stayed the same throughout the conversation. Kirishima knew from countless Uno games that Bakugou dominated that he had an icredible poker face. It was impossible to tell what was going on. He said a few words quietly about “could I have a little time to think about it”, and with many thanks and gratitude, he hung up on the phone call. The class watched in anticipation as he sank down onto the sofa, body tense and still like a cat ready to pounce. They’d never seen Bakugou like this before- he was always so sure of himself and his decisions. He never needed time to “think about it”, he would just do what he thought was best. His eyes scanned the air before him like he was reading invisible maths equations. It was strange. They needed to stage an intervention. 

Mina grabbed his arm and dragged him up the stairs, Bakugou surprisingly receptive to being manhandled. The rest of the Bakusquad followed suit, with an assurance to the rest of the class that they would find out what the hell was going on. After all, even if Bakugou had opened up a little over the years and stopped being such a stubborn bastard ( that was debatable ), he was closest to the Bakusquad. And Midoriya of course, but this was the kind of thing only their resident Bakugou handler could do. Kirishima was the man for the job.

“Dude, the fuck? Who was that?”

Bakugou lifted his head up, his face a strange mixture of thrilled excitement and broken realism of the situation. Kirishima almost didn’t want to hear the type of news that could make him act like that. A small smile shoved it’s way onto Bakugou’s lips, remnants of awed disbelief at whatever he’d been told. 

“That was… Avengers Initiative. They want me to go to New York and participate in their programme. They want me to be an Avenger.”

Mina’s room was still for a split second while everyone processed the knowledge before everyone burst into screams. That was a _huge_ deal. The Avengers were hero celebrities. Bigger than All Might. Bigger than anyone. They were the number one heroes in the entire world, had saved the world like, a million times, and were powerful beyond Kirishima’s wildest dreams. So why was he acting so weird about it? 

“I don’t know what to do.”

Wait. What? This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, how could he not be sure of his decision? The Avengers had only done this twice before, it was about one in an octillion chance of getting picked, and he wasn’t sure? Bakugou sped on, picking up on their confused faces.

“It’s in New York. As in, I’d be living in New York for three years. While the rest of you guys are in Japan. This may sound sappy and gross and shit, but I actually care about you guys, and you’re literally the only people I can stand. I can’t form an emotional connection with more people, I just can’t. Also, did you know that 40% of couples in long distance relationships break up, and 70% of long distance relationships break up due to unplanned circumstances or events? Because I didn’t until 2 minutes ago, and google is very helpful.”

It took a few seconds for Kirishima to realise- Bakugou was _scared._ It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen an anxious Bakugou before- on the contrary, he’d been dealing with one for the past few days, but for hero things, he could always be relied on to see through the bullcrap and choose the right path. Thankfully, Sero was taking charge of the situation for the moment, saying everything that was on their minds before someone else inevitably butted in with more points. 

“Dude! First of all, that’s so fucking awesome. Second, _are you out of your goddamn mind?_ You’re seriously thinking about turning this down?! For fucking FRIENDSHIP?! Where’s first year Bakugou, who would have automatically taken this opportunity, because he had actual brain cells and knew this is actually happening!”

“Hey! I have braincells, asshole, which one of us tried to put his dick in a toaster?”

“Yeah, and that’s why none of us got a call from fucking Avengers Inititave! But you did, and if you give up this chance because of that bullcrap, then I swear to god I’m going to beat your ass so hard your vertebrae will pop out of your mouth like a pez dispenser. Besides, do you know how hard we worked for this friendship? We will legit be calling, texting, you name it we’ll be doing it all the damn time. You can’t escape us that easily. Also, 70% of relationships? You have never listened to anyone in your entire goddamn life, are you really going to start paying attention to fucking statistics now? ”

Bakugou looked faintly disgruntled at Mina’s statement, murmuring “wasn’t gonna turn it down just thinking about it”, but it was given away by the smile creeping onto his face. He started typing in the phone number, egged on by the group's enthusiastic screeching. As it dialed, he turned his face towards Kirishima, a small, hopeful smile on his face. Kirishima tried to return with a reassuring “I’m-proud-of-you” face. 

They retreated downstairs after a short burst of giggles and excited screaming. As they settled on the various surfaces, ignoring everyone else’s wildly curious glares, they contemplated the new situation, and what was going to happen. At least, Kirishima did. Sero was probably thinking about stealing some of Bakugou’s spicy popcorn, judging from the way he was looking at the cupboard. 

Once Katsuki moved to New York ( New York!!! That part was still sinking in.) everything would change. Of course, their relationship would still stay strong as ever, Kirishima was sure of that. But they would have to get used to a completely new environment. The person on the other end of the line had said that Bakugou would be getting an email shortly with all the information, so he just had to wait until they had all the details, then they could figure it out. The class was staring at them in the type of way that said “tell us what happened or I’m actually to lose my marbles”

“Jesus fuck, can you losers stop staring at us already?”

“Then tell us who that call was from!”

Kirishima turned to look at Bakugou, who was grinning broadly and fiddling with some pencil eyeliner. It was nice to have the old Bakugou back. He took a deep breath and looked up at the others, who were completely focused on Bakugou.

“Avengers Initiative. They… want me to join them. I’m going to New York, three weeks from now. Pretty cool, right?”

The common room resonated with a sudden drop in volume, the faces of the class ranging from disbelieving to growing ecstasy to absolute euphoria. The expected screaming began to ensue, naturally accompanied by a bout of tears from Midoriya. A disbelieving laugh escaped Bakugou’s mouth, the realisation of what was happening finally processing.


	2. Chapter 2

They’d gone out drinking that night, to celebrate the entire bakusquad getting their phone calls. Himself, Jirou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero and Mina. They were holed up in some bar that Jirou had chosen, with lots of punk music, colourful grunge decor and some borderline broken arcade games covered in scribbles of sharpie and spray paint, some added by himself. All in all, it was Bakugou’s kind of place. He’d gone there many times with Jirou before, so he was familiar with everything available, from drinks to game prize opportunities to how to work the ancient jukebox. They’d actually gotten a job there once they’d managed to convince Momo to make them some convincing fake IDs. Part-time bartenders and every so often the live music. The regulars even knew them by name. Jirou, the chill lesbian guitarist who you could pay to be the aux cord, and Bakugou, the angry gay drummer who they got to spray paint the walls for free. 

Mina had taken about a million selfies by then- the walls were strung up with fairy lights and so it was apparently “prime glamour shot material” For some reason, Sero had taken a few pictures for her against the wall Bakugou had painted. It had taken almost three days, but he could say he was proud with the results. It was a big hit with customers, which made it a big hit with the manager, and therefore a big hit with Bakugou.

He swirled his drink absent-mindedly, vaguely aware of whatever Mina was talking about. Denki had looked up pictures of New York, and was scrolling through all the ones he could find of the Avengers Tower and the surrounding area. Every so often he would gasp and regale Bakugou with the latest piece of interesting information that he could barely fit into the tornado accumulating inside his brain. He still couldn’t comprehend it, that he was going to be living in _the_ Avengers Tower. With _the Avengers_. It was honestly unbelievable. 

He was acutely aware of Kirishima a few seats away from him, talking to Sero about something and laughing. He should probably talk to him about what was going to happen. The last two years with Kirishima had been the best of his life, and he wouldn't trade them for anything. But he deserved someone who could actually be on the same continent as him. Not halfway across the world. And it sucked. It sucked major donkey fucking balls, But Bakugou Katsuki was no coward, and he was going to do what was best for Kirishima, no matter if it hurt him, _even though he didn't fucking get hurt_ , and he wasn't scared of going to New York alone. No fucking way. 

The speaker system was playing some sort of soft song, the type that a movie soundtrack would have in the inevitable break up scene. Well, it was annoyingly accurate. They were sitting together, Kirishima’s hand loosely intertwined with his own. Bakugou studied his chipped black nail polish, watching as his own stupid resting bitchface was reflected back in the polish. Before he lost the nerve, words started spilling out of his mouth as Kirishima watched, slightly bemused and listening intently.

“Okay, so as you might have known, I will be going to New York in a couple of weeks. This means we have two choices. A, try and make it work and inevitably fail and ruin our friendship for good, or B, do it now and stay friends. I value, albeit wierdly, what we have too much to ruin that. Even if that is a total friendship gremlin thing to say. God, what did you turn me into? I've been fucking contaminated. ”

Bakugou stared into Kirishima’s eyes determinedly, searching for any sign of emotion or reaction. He stared at Bakugou for a moment, before smiling and looking him in the eyes, matching Bakugou’s look of resolve with an equal one of resolute love and “I’m not giving up on this and neither are you”

“Answer me this. Do you actually want to break up, or are you doing this because you think it’ll make the fact that you're leaving easier to handle?”

“Well, obviously I don’t want to, dummy, but-”

“Then let’s not. I’m with you till the end of the line.”

Bakugou looked at him skeptically for a second, eyebrow raised and his before bursting into laughter and burying his face in his hands to hide the blush taking over his face.

“You fucking simp, that was so lame, I actually hate you you stupid main-character-complex bitc-"

He was cut off by a squawk of playful indignation as Kirishima took the opportunity to swipe his drink, tipping it down his throat and relishing the sweet scent of whatever he was drinking. Wow, this whole thing really had him spiraling out of control. What kind of absolute moron would give this up? Bakugou, apparently. 

\----------------------------

_3 weeks earlier_

Tony Stark, genius billionaire philanthropist playboy, an original part of the number one hero organization, was currently twirling around on his spinny chair and watching youtube. 

“I’m just saying, just because we already have 2 spider heroes in the new avengers lineup, doesn't mean we can’t have another one! Look at him, Steve, he’s ADORABLE.”

“Tony, you can't adopt every small sad child you come across.”

“Watch me, Barnes.”

Natasha walked into the living room where the rest of the avengers were crowded around a lone laptop, choosing the lineup for the next generation for Avengers. They’d only done this once before, quite a few years ago, but it was a huge success, so they’d decided to attempt it again. Another group of aspiring heroes just out of school would join the Avengers, live in the avengers institute and become one of them. It was a dream come true, but the selection was exclusive, to say the least. It was hard to say who would earn a place, because there was no application process or anything. Some people didn’t even have to go to hero school- one of their best Avengers, Captain Marvel, had been set on her promising pilot career until she figured out an entire villain organization and defeated their leader. She then discovered how much fun it was to punch people, the Avengers recruited her and she became one of America’s leading heroes. 

So far they’d chosen quite a few kids for the lineup, coming from a variety of different places such as Argentina, Wakanda, and right there in New York City. The current Avengers also came from places spread wide across the globe, including Russia, Asgard and a few other assorted places. It made it very _very_ difficult to function in times of stress, because literally everyone was yelling at each other in another language. 

Each of the kids that they were going to contact were visible on the screen, along with all the information the system could find about them, organized clearly and efficiently. Natasha leaned over the couch and scanned the list, sipping her iced coffee as the ice cubes scraped the straw in a way that made everyone in the immediate vicinity flinch. 

“I actually have a kid who I think would be good for this program. Powerful quirk, amazing fighting skills, smart, he’d be a great fit.”

She typed on the keyboard for a second, then a video was pulled up. It looked as if it was being recorded on a security camera in the corner of the room, looking down on a restrained teenager and two villains. They were speaking in Japanese, but the subtitles were on and the heroes leaned in closer to see what was happening.

[villain 1] If you don’t do what we say Sensei will be angry. We’re doing this for your own good. 

[hero student] I’m not going to become your f*cking villain plaything. Who the f*ck is “Sensei” anyway? Your imaginary friend? Or your pet rock?

[villain 1] No! Sensei is so powerful, he will defeat All Might when the time comes. 

[villain 2] Idiot, shut up.

[hero student] Oh, so that’s his f*cking goal? Sounds really godd*mn original if you ask me. 

The video went on for about a minute and a half, but it was clear to everyone watching that he was playing the villains like the cheap kazoos they were. Just in the short time they watched them, it was obvious that the kid was interrogating them, not the other way around. Getting them to spill information that could be used against them without even being aware of it.

“His name’s Bakugou Katsuki, and he graduates from Japanese hero school U.A This year. I think he could really be a valuable asset to the team.”

The group scattered around the common room turned to look at Natasha, who was still sucking dedicatedly on her iced coffee. Steve gave a sigh that said “well, why not” and entered “Bakugou Katsuki” into the computer. As the file updated with his information, she gave a pleased smile and sauntered off, listening to Tony fruitlessly try to convince Steve to add a third spider-child to the Avengers. 

Bakugou would make the eighth member of the new lineup, if Tony had his way with the third spider hero. Who needed 3 spiderlings? Natasha’s Black Widow schick was definitely feeling threatened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos much appreciated ;3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow im a terrible person
> 
> bakugou's version of events will come next chapter i just couldn't face leaving the update any longer lmao
> 
> i have made the executive decision to have 21 timezone information tabs open in my browser what about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo catch me updating after 2 months i suck lol
> 
> s...s...spare coomments?  
> aw hell naw  
> *slap*  
> i hate comment fishers (fucking hyprocrite lmao)  
> comments: exist  
> me: aw00gah
> 
> SKSKSKSKSK IM LEGIT DYING THIS TOOK TOO LONG AND I WATCH TOO MUCH TIKTOK

**Nebula**

Her older sister was checking and rechecking that she had everything for the fifth time in the past 36 minutes, and Nebula was getting pretty sick of it. Since Gamora was an Avenger herself, part of the Guardians Of The Galaxy division, she would naturally be worried about her, but Nebula could handle herself. She was quite a few years older than Nebula, a proper functional adult to her angst-filled rage-machine, but that didn’t stop them from being close. And apparently didn’t stop Gamora from acting like she was close to death. Nebula was literally the one who should be panicking right now, but she hadn’t shifted from her neutral evil demeanor. This day was too important to screw up with useless worrying.

To her credit, Gamora wasn’t as bad as she could have been. She was chilling out, and wasn’t as absolutely terrible as Nebula had been when Gamora got her phone call. She’d been about 10, and as soon as she’d gotten the call Mantis (another Member of the Guardians division and Gamora’s best friend) had organized a sleepover the exact same day so they could talk non-stop about her future. They’d driven Gamora almost crazy talking about it. It hadn’t been a surprise that Mantis got her Avengers invitation the exact same day, and Gamora took revenge by acting like it didn’t even happen, torture for Mantis’s gossip queen heart, 

They were currently walking towards the Avengers Tower, coffees in hand and suitcases trailing behind them. Since this was one of the few occasions that Gamora wasn’t on a mission in space, she’d insisted on taking Nebula to the tower. Even though her sister lived there, Nebula had never actually been in there. Something about it being dangerous, and her being too young. Sometimes, Nebula thought Gamora didn’t actually want her to be an Avenger.

She’d wanted to make a good impression on the Avengers, so she’d chosen her outfit carefully. Her skeletor shirt was tucked loosely into black ripped jeans, and her grey denim backpack was slung over one shoulder. Even though it wasn’t exactly great for fighting, she had large hoop earrings swinging from her ears- the one fighting restriction she allowed herself. Besides, it wasn’t like there’d be a villain attack today of all days, right when she was about to become an Avenger. And her extra gear more than made up for the slight inconvenience.

Her high top converses had metal soles, and packed one hell of a kick. Her retractable staff and electro- blaster were stored in the side pocket of her backpack, and there was a knife in the pocket of her jeans. Just for safekeeping. Even though none of that could compare to her quirk- Cyborg. Her quirk gave her natural higher physical capabilities beyond any human being, which were further enhanced by her physiological enhancements. Some of the abilities her quirk gave her were superhuman strength and durability, regenerative healing factor, holographic projection, electronic hacking and electroblast generation. 

Her quirk had caused her much pain over the years, but she’d learned to accept it for what it was, warts and all. Besides, it gave her a certain advantage that she couldn’t imagine living without anymore. A cybernetic arm, a brain implant and a bionic eye, amongst other things. The arm was equipped with a grappling hook, electroshock blast generation and retractable claws, that were also on the other hand. She preferred not to use the electroshock blasts unless the situation called for it, because they tended to block up her other enhancements for a little bit, but they were incredibly useful. Learning how to use and control her cybernetic implants had been a struggle, but she was glad to say she’d gained almost complete control over her quirk. 

Standing in front of the actual Avengers Tower, everything started to click into place. It felt like this was where she was meant to be. It was 11:59, and the registration time was twelve to one. You could say that Nebula was a little nervous. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself. As soon as she went in there, she’d be an Avenger. Surreal. As the doors opened to her new life, and she strode forward, step purposeful and strong. Nothing would stop her from being a hero.

**Peter Parker**

His web shooters were strapped onto his wrist, but even they couldn’t stop the strange feeling that something was about to happen. Well, obviously something was about to happen. He was becoming an Avenger! Maybe it was his spider sense acting up. His extrasensory ability wasn’t all that reliable 50% of the time. Once he’d been in decathlon practice and it’d gone off. The supposed “danger” was Flash flicking paper at him. He’d accidentally shot a web at the “attacker” in defense, and it had gotten him a week in detention. Good times. 

Technically speaking, he wasn’t supposed to be using his quirk to get around, but he was just so excited to become an Avenger! He’d finally get to meet his long-time idol, THE Tony Stark, and he’d just become a hero so, who was anyone to judge him? He’d strapped his suitcases tight to his front and back with copious amounts of web fluid, and it might have restricted movement a little, and looked pretty stupid, but at least it was better than the commute. He honestly pitited anyone who was taking the train to get here. They probably didn’t know New York very well. 

Swinging around Queens was actually very freeing- there was nothing like low-key breaking the law while getting extra publicity for being a hero. Peter was pretty sure one of the only reasons for him getting into the Avengers Initiative program was from his youtube videos. People took videos of him fighting crime on patrol, and some Avenger most likely saw it and decided to recruit him. The other reason was his killer quirk. Super-strength, amazing agility and reflexes, plus the naturally occurring amazingly strong webs? Not exactly a disadvantage in the hero world. His webs were part of his quirk, but the web shooters helped him direct them. The enhanced agility wasn’t bad either. It was always a treat to simply jump over the school gates instead of walking through them like a noob. He laughed in the face of physical obstructions. 

The Avengers had amazing technology, so obviously no-one had ever managed to hack into their information systems, and therefore there was barely any information about the new lineup of avengers, but most of the internet had been going crazy with guessing the identities of the new additions. Even Peter was slowly being driven into insanity. He didn’t have a whole lot of close friends at his high school, just Ned Leeds from the support course, and Liz Allan, but since she moved away they hadn’t talked. Defeating and arresting your dad that happened to be a villain would do that to you. Hopefully, since they’d be living together, training together and getting to know each other for the next three years, the other participants of the program would become his friends. Kinda trippy.

Apparently, this year’s tech department at Avengers Tower was a real treat. They would recruit students every year to join that program, for an internship or a real career opportunity, but this year’s was supposed to be really good. Especially since they were trying out a new division that would work alongside the avengers. Tony Stark and Dr Bruce Banner (Otherwise known as The Hulk) were spearheading the program, them being the science nuts that they were. Honestly, Peter was really excited about that part- the new lineup of Avengers supposedly could work alongside them, and you would have to be smart to get into such an elite program, so hopefully some of his new team members would share his passion for science. 

As he swung by the tower, he saw the iconic “A” on the tower and a girl with a bald head and multi-toned blue skin walking in through the door on the ground. Well, if she was one of his future teammates, he should probably get in now, make a good impression. Being early normally wasn’t his style, but he definitely didn’t want to be late. He dropped down next to the door and unraveled the many layers of web fluid holding his suitcases to his body. There were still a few strands of web fluid stubbornly holding on to his science-punned shirt, but he fruitlessly tried to brush them off as he hurried inside the building. He didn’t even have time to marvel at everything, but as he was directed into a room with some plastic chairs and the blue skinned girl, everything suddenly felt real. This would be his new life. And he was perfectly okay with that.

**Shuri**

Her fingers drummed on the laptop across her knees, still warm from a quick updating of a new design for her gauntlets. She’d been thinking about adding a tracker, so T’Challa wouldn’t constantly call her to check up on New York. Since he was still in Wakanda, and the prototype of the overprotective older brother, if it seemed she was anywhere other than the Avengers Tower he’d immediately call and bombard her with questions like “where are you?”, “Are you safe?” and of course, the ultimate classic “Are you doing something that I wouldn’t do?”

She’d decided that being too early sent a weird vibe, but too late was an obvious no-no. Besides, she’d seen security footage from across the street. A blue-skinned girl with the type of earrings Shuri would kill for had gone in, quickly followed by some tiny white boy swinging across the city with suitcases strapped to his body (Shuri had a feeling she would like him) and a spiky blonde with a suspicious amount of nitroglycerin on his hands. Well, maybe he was just into chemistry. Hopefully he was just into chemistry and not a terrorist. 

Wakanda was 5 hours behind New York, which meant that she’d have pretty severe jet lag for a while. Or, at least she would until her new anti-jet lag pills began to kick in. Wakanda was very technologically advanced, and she’d grown up with the best of the best. Eighteen years living there, and people thought she wouldn’t come up with a way to banish everything bad about moving to New York? Please. 

Maybe some of her new colleagues would need them- the Avengers took their lineup from all over the world, not just America. No doubt there would be at least one person who was struggling with the immigration too. Shuri had debated hacking into the Avengers database to figure out who’d be part of the new lineup with her, but she’d ultimately decided against it. Breaking into the very core of their information would be kind of a turn-off for recruiting her, and would also be a hit to their pride. It was better if she just stayed in suspense a little while longer. 

The air was cool on her skin, the aircon blasting at full strength. She supposed she wouldn’t need it much longer, the weather in NYC was much less hot than the weather in Wakanda. She almost missed the scorching heat and freezing precipitation. It was a very flexible climate, seeing as they could basically _make_ the weather with their technology. Music was also playing, her favorite playlist optimized to make her the most relaxed she could be for checking in. She didn’t know the driver, but he seemed nice enough, and he let her play 21 rounds of “What’s New Pussycat” with one “It’s not unusual” sandwiched in there, so he was good in her book. 

The car parked and she hopped out, and an uncontrollable grin plastered on her face. Shuri was well aware that she definitely looked the part of a dashingly beautiful posh heiress from a foreign country- the car was the sort of thing she’d seen celebrities get out of, and her outfit was carefully chosen to make her look cool as fuck. Not that she wasn’t already. The fabric of her silvery skirt swished against her knees, and the soles of her white chunky trainers scraped against the grimy sidewalk. She definitely looked the part of a new hero, but her favorite part of her outfit would have to be the symbol on her shirt. It was the “Wawa”, which literally translated to “seed of the wawa tree”. A symbol of hardness, toughness and perseverance, which she would definitely need if she was really going to make it here. 

Suitcases in hand and a wide smile plastered on her face, she marched through the automatic doors that lead to her new life. God, that was cheesy. She’d have to work on her internal monologues. Maybe she could do that in Avengers Tower.

**Ava Starr**

Sitting on the train to Avengers Tower was probably the worst part of her journey. Well, not the worst. Better than the border control, and definitely better than sitting next to the old man on the plane. But the smell on that stupid train was unbearable, and Ava was pretty sure she’d seen someone just pull a live fish wearing a ghost costume out of their backpack. Maybe it was her long-lost cousin. Bit of a coincidence that a fish wearing a ghost costume was on the same train as the Disappearing Hero, Ghost. It was late august. Why would anybody be wearing a ghost costume at this time? 

At least she wasn’t the weirdest person on the train. Ava was sure that between her unruly suitcases and grandma get-up (white cardigan, mom jeans, black shirt with a ghost motif, she was basically dressed like the protagonist in every coming-of-age book she’d ever read.) she’d be the resident train weirdo, but thankfully New York was really strange, and so were its residents. The guy opposite her was trying to light a cigar with his shoe. This city would probably take some getting used to. 

As she exited the station, suitcase trailing behind at her heels, she couldn’t help marvelling at everything. This was by far her first visit to New York, but it would be the first time she’d be working with- no, becoming an Avenger. It was kind of surreal. Dr Foster was one of her teachers at the Argentinian hero school, and he had worked on Ant Man’s suit, so he already had some type of connection with the Avengers. Honestly, Ava was more of a Wasp fan than an Ant-Man one. Not that he wasn’t cool- Ant-Man was one of her favorite heroes, but there was an undeniable coolness about one of the first female heroes. 

The Avengers had started quite a while ago, when women were just starting to break into the hero industry, but one of the oldest team members had been a woman, one of the original 5. Natasha Romanoff, otherwise known as Black Widow, had been one of her personal idols, along with Wasp. She was quirkless, but that didn’t stop her from being one of the best heroes out there. Highly skilled in espionage, stealth, many martial arts, had basically the coolest weapons out there, and was definitely smarter than every guy who had ever dared to disrespect her on the sole basis of her being a woman. Ava’s weapons couldn’t measure up to hers, all she had was her suit and quirk.

Her quirk was intangibility- she could phase through solid objects and living beings at will. She could also amplify the amount of force behind her attacks while phasing, and pass in and out of the visible spectrum. At first, it had been hard to control. She hadn’t been able to control her phasing, flickering in and out of solidity. Her suit had helped her control it, but up until her last year of high school she hadn’t gained full mastery. 

Avengers Tower stood tall and bold against the sky, a spectacle that even the most pessimistic person could look to as a symbol of hope. And it would be Ava’s new home for the next three years. It was almost unbelievable. Well, they said to arrive from 12 to 1, and it was currently 12:30, so she guessed it was a good time to enter. Taking a deep breath, Ava entered the building, praying to whatever gods were up there that this wouldn’t blow up in her face. God, she hoped this would go well. 

**Miles Morales**

His bus left in about 3 minutes, and Miles was practically fizzing with excitement as he checked up on the finishing details. Every now and then he would get up and pace around, much to the bemusement of his parents. His room was stripped of almost everything, it all neatly packed (read- haphazardly squished in there thanks to an impromptu unpacking and repacking involving a lost phone charger and an unspecified amount of shampoo. Up until very recently (about 2 minutes ago) the room hadn’t been packed at all. Some of it was, but most of his personal belongings had been scattered around the room just like they always were. He was really going to regret doing that once he reached Avengers Tower. 

His outfit was just something he’d thrown on haphazardly, but it was his lucky outfit, and he often wore it on patrol. A green jacket thrown over a red hoodie thrown over a white t-shirt. (layers were important, even if it was the end of june). Looking around was really jarring- Avengers Tower was on the other side of the city, and although he would come visit his parents from time to time, he’d be living in a place with a bunch of total strangers. Not really something he was used to. At least he wouldn’t be completely alone, from the little information he’d managed to scrounge there would be seven more people his age in the Avengers Initiative Project, so that was a relief. Hopefully at least one of them would be into the same kind of stuff he was.

“Miles, get down here, I’m driving you to work.”

“What? Dad, no, you don’t have to do that.”

About half an hour and one manhandling into his dad’s police car later, Miles sat in the back seat, practically writhing with rightful injustice and rage. He was a pro hero, and yet his dad was still allowed to drive him to work. It was honestly just embarrassing at this point. He wasn’t a kid anymore! Ooh, juice box. The journey from his house in Brooklyn to the Avengers Tower in Manhattan was about 45 minutes, and since they’d already gotten the bulk of the journey over with, there was only a short time left before they arrived. 

They pulled up outside the tower, almost speechless in the sight of his new home. It towered over them (no pun intended), sunlight glancing off the many windows that lined the outside. The atmosphere was almost akin to his venom strike- electricity coursing through his veins, setting his blood alight and bubbling through his body. He opened the car door in almost a daze, grabbing his suitcase and walking to the building as if pulled by an invisible force. He almost missed his dad calling after him.

“Miles!...I love you.”

He smiled fondly, taking note of the crooked sunglasses hanging from his nose.

“Yeah, I know Dad.”

He was about to walk through the big double-glass doors when a grainy, microphone-esque voice stopped him in his tracks. _Fuck_ . People were _staring_. It was times like these Miles wished he could keysmash in real life. 

“You have to say I love you back.”

“ _Dad_ ?! Are you _serious_ right now?”

“I wanna hear it.”

“You wanna hear me say it right now, I-”

“I love you Dad.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Dad, I love you.”

Miles took a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable embarrassment that was about to happen. He was nineteen, and forced to say “I love you” to his dad. Great first impression he was making. God, he just hoped that none of the avengers were watching this.

“Dad...I love you.”

“That’s a copy. “

**Wanda Maximoff**

Wanda’s bike bell rang as she rounded another corner on her journey to Avengers Tower. Her headphones were clapped ever her ears, and some muted lo-fi music was playing, making her journey just that bit more easier to stand. After all, she had just taken a boat from Sovokia, and her joints were getting tired. It got a little better the more she rode, though. Her green jacket flew out behind her, flapping in the wind. As her brother Pietro would say, her inner main character was thriving on this. She could faintly hear some microphone talking, the grainy sound cutting through the streets. People were stopping and staring at a police car, faintly chuckling at whatever was going on. And it was right outside the Avengers Tower. Well, at least now she knew where she was. 

It was a whole lot different than she’d imagined. She’d seen pictures, sure, but it was nothing compared to seeing the real thing. It shot up into the sky like a tree- well that was accurate. There was some fancy technology that went into it, that made it almost replicate a tree. Legend had it that Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries was out there building forests where companies cut them down for paper, and being a whole-ass environmentalist as well as a genius billionaire playboy. That was pretty on brand for him, from what she’d heard. His company had made B.A.R.F- Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing. It was some therapy thing that she hadn’t heard much about, but apparently it was really helping people. Not bad for a billionaire. Most people with too much money tended to be greedy and selfish. This man could have been that and more, but at least he was helping people. 

Her bike scraped against the lock as it clicked into place, hanging sturdily against the metal of the bike rack. It was one of her prized possessions, something that Pietro and herself had treated themselves to when they entered high school. It was bright red, the exact same colour of the sparks that rose from her fingertips when she activated her quirk. Pietro’s was silver, to go with his hero name, quicksilver. Even though he technically didn’t need a bike- Wanda had argued that point many times when he insisted that they get up early in the morning to go and get oil from the bike shop. God, she hoped none of the new Avengers Initiates liked to get up early. Pietro only did it when he really needed something, and even that was unbearable, so she couldn’t imagine someone like that every single fucking day for three years. Absoloute torture. 

The door swung open and her nose was immediately filled with the scent of coffee beans and electricity. She didn’t exactly know how she could smell electricity, but it smelled like shiny metal and window cleaner. And it made her hair stand up on end. Which made her look like some scared kid. And that wasn’t exactly the look she was going for. 

“Okay, Wanda, up the stairs and second door to the left. Good luck!”

She smiled gratefully at the receptionist, and began the inevitable task of dragging her suitcases up the stairs. It would have been so much easier to just use her quirk, but she didn’t know the exact policies of quirk use in America, and any mess-ups could cause a bad first impression, so it was better to just bear with it for now. The door swung open almost on command, revealing a room of people about her age. So these were the initiates. She vaguely recognized one from this morning, the kid with the police car. They were all very main-character-esque, some girl with a bald head sitting next to a guy with a head of blonde spiky hair that looked like a pomeranian. 

**Gwen Stacy**

Gwen was almost completely sure that there was some kind of prank going on here that she didn’t know about. Maybe her old classmates or her dad was screwing around or something. Because there was a pile of web fluid slowly dissolving next to the door. One that looked almost exactly like her own. Except maybe a little greyer. It reminded her of the incident a couple years ago. She rubbed the shaven side of her head ruefully, remembering that fateful day 3 years ago when she lost half her hair to a quirk malfunction. It looked cool now that she’d gotten it sorted out, but the first few weeks or walking around with a handprint of tufts on the side of her head had been hell. 

The other initiates were hopefully better than her old classmates. They weren't _bad_ , per se, but they weren't exactly the best. She hadn’t been unfriendly enough to stir up trouble, but they hadn’t exactly been close either. She just hadn’t seen the point of friendship when the entire reason she came to that school was to become a hero. So she focused on her studies and graduating. And now she was actually a hero. Something she’d been working towards since she learned to shoot spider webs out of her hands like ropes of steel. Kind of surreal. Sure, she’d graduated months ago, but it still took some getting used to.

She signed into the building, smiling nervously at the receptionist. After she turned away, it became apparent her mind had blocked out everything she’d said pertaining to what she should do next. There were two people in the far end of the lobby, one girl and one boy. It looked like the girl was… drawing something? She looked up and looked Gwen straight in the eyes, brown seeping into blue. There was something fascinating about her, that almost reminded her of someone from one of her favorite bands- _The_ _Mary Janes._ Gwen was actually wearing one of their shirts at that specific moment, one she’d gotten from a show in Las Vegas that she went to for her birthday. Mystery girl cocked her head to one side, and glanced down at her sketchpad. 

“I like to sketch people in crisis. And it looks like you are. Up the stairs, second door to the left.”

“Oh my god- Thank you so much… Uuh…”

“MJ.”

“Right. And I’m Gwen...nnn...nnn...da. Gwanda. It’s… European. I mean, it's _Wanda_ , not Gwanda. No G, because that's stupid. Um... bye. And thanks for your help!”

It wasn’t her fault Gwen Stacy sounded like a prepubescent girl’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles OC. Or possibly a failed pop star wannabe from the X- Factor. She waved a quick good-bye to former Mystery Girl, current MJ, (so _that’s_ why she connected her with The Mary Janes. Gwen could honestly consider herself psychic at this point) and raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time until she reached the second door on the left. It was blue, and had one of those small rectangle crossy windows at the top, like in prison. That was not a comforting thought. 

Slowly, she pushed open the door and found herself inside a room that contained a boy absent-mindedly stringing what looked like glue between his fingers. She’d seen boys do that in middle school, taking a glue stick, rubbing it between their fingers and stretching it out until it looked like spiderwebs. Except now that she looked closer, she could see it wasn’t just glue. Her vision tracked to the material in his hand- spiderwebs. Just like hers. A little greyer, sure, but still like hers. In fact, the greyness exactly matched the pile of webbing that sat just outside the building, slowly dissolving for the world to see. He had the same quirk as her. 

_Motherfucker._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> catch me being a terrible updater  
> so i recently joined a discord server and apparently... there's people who actually read this? so if ur one of those ppl, hi? first, i love u. second, I LOVE U

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my wifi glitched out SO MUCH while writing this i- in some ways it was productive thinking time in others i wanted to break open my computer and explode it bakugou-style and submit the remains as my computer tech homework, but i did not, because of society's restrictions on impulse anger computer smashing, and also bc my mom would be mad and im not mentally in a headspace to recieve that bc i couldn't play i hate my mom by grlwood and class of 2013 by mitski afterwards.

**Bakugou Katsuki**

Every step he took echoed on the airport floor, a steady rhythm to the beat of the tinny music playing over the speakers. The rest of the group talked loudly, as to drown out the sombre feeling that was beginning to settle upon them. It felt surreal that he was about to board the flight that would take him to  _ the _ New York,  _ the _ Avengers Tower,  _ the _ main character moment of his dreams. He’d wanted to be a pro hero his whole life, and now that his dream was finally coming true, it all felt too good to be true. The flight would be about 13 hours, so Denki had taken it upon himself to make sure that it wasn’t a flight that would turn him off planes for the rest of his life. Snacks, enough downloaded episodes of “Keeping up with the Kardashians” to last years, an outfit that would be incredibly annoying to wear on a long flight but would for sure kick in the y/n feeling that Denki swore he was supposed to have. 

Kirishima had gone into full over protective mom mode, constantly checking up on everything until Bakugou wanted to tear his hair out. He was 19, for fuck’s sake! He didn’t need a babysitter! Bakugou guessed he could see where he was coming from, though. It was a weird thing to face, that your long term boyfriend and best friend would be moving to a different continent. Mina and Sero seemed to be coping alright, but Jirou had been playing “idfc” by blackbear over and over again on the journey to the airport, which suggested that she did, in fact, fucking care. The last thing Bakugou wanted was for this to turn into an overly dramatic movie-esque cry-fest. 

To be perfectly honest, he would have preferred to come to the airport on his own. He didn’t need any stupid goodbyes, or emotional speeches, or emotions on general. It would just make it harder to say goodbye. It had already been a total wreckage when he left with the Bakusquad that morning- he’d had to suffer through a good old-fashioned breakdown hug from Deku, which Katsuki hadn’t had to endure since they were 12. Half of the class had been crying. He didn’t know how to deal with crying people. It reminded him of when he had to search up “how to empathize with people” in first year because he didn’t have any clue of how to actually interact with people.

They’d reached the border gate, where everyone was doing exactly what Bakugou was clueless about- _ crying _ . It was a lot like that opening scene from “Love, Actually” that Uraraka had raved about for hours when the class watched it at christmas last year- except there were a lot more leaking eyes and sad faces. In a best case scenario, they would just get their goodbyes over and done with easily. Worst case, they would all cry, Bakugou would get that type of second hand embarrassment he got from watching failed proposals, and everything would just end horribly. Sometimes he sincerely regretted becoming friends with a bunch of people who had no concept of personal space. Overhead, the loudspeakers announced that flight 32A would be leaving shortly, and that they would be boarding now. That was his flight. 

He turned to face them, already dreading the inevitable human contact that he was about to be subjected to. As always, they stormed right ahead and engaged in the foulest of creations, the bane of Bakugou’s existence, the possible most villainous invention on the face of that cursed earth- _ the group hug _ . Even Jirou joined in. Fucking traitor. Eventually they backed away at Bakugou’s insistence, and the voice over the loudspeaker that declared his flight would be departing in 10 minutes, and this was the last boarding call. He’d practiced this before, he knew what he was going to say, and how this was going to go down. 

“Okay. Pikachu, if you steal any of my stuff while I’m gone I’m gonna blow your ass sky high. Tape face, no, I will not get weed in New York for “medical purposes” and send it to you. Pinky, if I see Valkyrie I’ll give her your number, you’ve told me that a million fucking times, I’m not gonna let you down. Jirou, no, I probably can’t go to fucking Coachella because it’s on the other side of the goddamn country, but if I do go, yes we’re gonna go together. Shitty Hair- first of all, if I come back from America and you're still wearing fucking crocs I’m just gonna get back on that fucking flight. Second, yeah, I promise I’ll text you when I get off the flight,  _ and _ when I reach Avengers Tower, you’ve told me. Now I gotta go, because otherwise you’re going to infect me with your emotional bullshit and none of us want that.”

Mina sniffed loudly in a fruitless effort to dispel all tears, and after they all indulged in another unwilling hug from Bakugou, before slowly drawing away, leaving Bakugou and Kirishima alone together at the border gate, surrounded by people, and finally having to say goodbye. 

“You’ll text me when you get there, right? And remember that it’s up from the airport 3 blocks, the left with a bookstore on the corner, then four blocks of straight ahead, two rights and then you should be there. And remember that America’s very racist, and sexist, and ableist, and homophobic, so as much as I love your sense of justice and wanting to fight any bigots, please don’t because it’s illegal to kill civilains. And remember that  _ I love you _ , and-”

“I love you too. It’s not gonna be that bad, you know. We can text, and call, and do those stupid “open-when” letters Uraraka was talking about. We’ll be fine.”

  
  


He reached up and pressed his lips together with Kirishima’s, slow and deliberate, ignoring the various wolf- whistles and cheers that came from the general direction of the remaining members of the bakusquad. Honestly, it had been 2 years since they’d gotten together, and they still didn’t know how to shut the fuck up. In the back of his mind, the flight attendant announced that this was the last boarding call for flight 32A. He internally cursed himself- couldn’t he just have a few more minutes? He drew away reluctantly, aching for more. However, they were all looking at him in a way that encouraged a lot of crying, and there was no way in hell he was going to cry in front of those losers. He’d already had to endure Deku when he left this morning. He waved to them as he walked into the plane, watching them wave frantically from the cafe window, and probably annoying everyone else with how loud they were being. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

\-----------------------

The plane landing was smooth, something he was grateful for. Not because he was scared, but because he knew first hand from other journeys that a bumpy landing was something that made practically everyone have an annoying over the top reaction that was was too loud, and he wouldn’t get any peace on the plane until he got out of the stupid metal tube. He’d taken to calling it that in his head because for some reason the word “plane” was enough fodder for Sparky to say, in the exact same quizzical tone, “Wait! Are planes a mixture of submarines and hotels?” and now his stupid train of thought was permanently ingrained into Bakugou’s brain. He’d had to sit next to an old man on the plane who smelled like tobacco and moths. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience. At least there weren't any crying kids. 

American airports were… strangely familiar. People said that every airport had the same kind of vibe, and they were kind of right. He’d never been in an airport that didn’t feel like a different universe. The one difference was that everyone was speaking english, instead of Japanese. And that there was a lot more yelling. In all the movies and tv shows Mina had forced him to watch with her in preparation, there had been a lot of angry people in New York. Ready to throw down whenever and full of rage for reasons that couldn’t be understood by mere mortals. A lot like him, actually.

After buying a black coffee from the nearest vending machine, he left the airport and set off down the streets. Every 5 feet was like he was in a movie, the buildings towering above him reminiscent of every piece of media he’d ever seen set in New York. At one point he even thought he recognized one of the manhole covers from teenage mutant ninja turtles. Promptly after, as though reading his mind, he then saw someone in full Michelangelo getup, unashamed and proud of their life choices. New York was a strange city.

Jirou had made him a “New York vibes” playlist, saying that it was just a going away present, and that when he came back he would have to make her one. It was surprisingly accurate- he doubted anyone else had a better soundtrack than him. Walking through New York was strangely accurate to what Denki had said- it really was a main character feeling. He also appreciated them insisting that he didn’t just wear normal comfy clothes on the flight. No matter how good it would feel, and how much he insisted he didn’t care about what people thought of him, it would have shaken him to his core to show up to the  _ Avengers Tower _ in sweats and an oversized tee. Right now he was clad in the old black ripped jeans he got just to piss Four-eyes off because he said they were not “appropriate” which was bullshit because they looked amazing, and tucked into them was a birthday present from Sero for his seventeenth birthday. A shirt with the entirety of the bee movie script printed on it. God, he hoped no-one at Avengers tower recognized that. Although. If they did recognize the design, they probably weren't in a position to judge him. He’d managed to tone down the whole “loser” vibe that came with the shirt by the little things- all the ear and tongue piercings, maths and science formulas scribbled all over his jeans and wrists, shoelaces patterned with little skulls, but his favorite part of the outfit were the weapons. 

He got along quite well with Hatsume, or as he liked to call her, Walmart Entrapta, mainly because they got introduced to each other when her and Denki briefly dated, and discovered that they were both into science and things that blew up. Well, she was more into the engineering and physics part of science, but they’d bonded over their mutual love of destroying things. They’d collaborated on a lot of gadgets over their time at U.A, and she’d insisted that he take some to America. His favorites, though, were just the simple ones. Four-eyes had stressed over and over that “no, Bakugou, please do not take weapons into America that is bad news”. He still had no idea how he’d managed to get them past customs. 

There was a knife strapped to his leg, at least three others in his bag, and canisters of nitroglycerin hidden in his pockets. One of the studs in his ears was a tracker, and the eyeliner in his pocket doubled up as a laser cutter. His shoes, though, were the best. At the push of a button, they could release nitroglycerin that he could then detonate, and they also had metal soles, to pack a nice punch. A mixture of steel and titanium, because of that kid Shitty Hair battled in their first year sports festival. It was just as strong as his hardening, and the titanium was because for one, it was a really strong material so they had it in abundance at the Support Department, and for two, Mina had been really into Pitch Perfect at that point, and she’d made him incorporate one of her favorite songs into his arsenal, or she would write him a 5 page essay on why Chloe and Becca were in love and force him to read it. 

Slowly, Avengers Tower came into sight, and for a few very deniable seconds, he forgot how to breathe. It towered over him like U.A used to, except this felt different. More mature. Like he wasn’t just that same cocky 15 year old with too much eyeliner- Mina’s words, not his. He was perfectly confident in his eyelinering abilities. Even so, he was nervous for what was about to come. Even more anxious than he had been the night before U.A, if that was possible. He remembered tossing and turning all night long, too excited to go to sleep. This was sort of like that, only a thousand times worse. As Kirishima would say, there were butterflies in his stomach. As Bakugou was wont to respond, “Well, my butterflies are big fucking moths, and I’m going to digest them if they don’t so help me and fuck off back to Mothman land”

He approached the doors, almost warily as he prayed to whatever was looking down on him that his nitroglycerin didn’t set off any detectors of anything. Bakugou didn’t think he could live with that failure. Two other people had already entered the building, one girl with a bald head, cyborg features and blue skin, one guy, swinging from the rooftops with some kind of synthetic web-like organic chemical substance being emitted from hands. There was also a girl in a car on the opposite side of the road, with a laptop opened on her lap, and _ Black Mirror _ playing on it. He bet those three wouldn’t accidentally set off the alarm. The guy actually looked pretty familiar, almost like that one american aspiring hero on youtube who Sero wouldn’t  _ shut up _ about. Oh. Oh, fuck, Katsuki would never hear the end of it if that really was him. 

Thankfully, he got through the doors and administration without any hassle, and was soon on his way to floor two, the second door to the left. He’d been following the spiderman-lookalike, who was racing up the stairs with those threads of synthetic spider-web trailing behind him, letting Bakugou know he was going the right way. He’d picked up one of the trails on the way and ran it through his fingers- it was definitely strong, good composition and textile strength, and durable, too. Whoever made these must have had a powerful quirk, and some knowledge of science. It looked as though they had an original quirk, and then trained hard to make the webbing fluid better and more effective. Kind of like him, with making his explosions bigger and more powerful. It was good to know at least some of the other initiates would have some knowledge of science. Back at U.A, the best he could do was Icyhot, Ponytail and Four-Eyes, who only learned science for the necessity and grades. They didn’t have a passion for it, like the nerd he was. He wasn’t here to make friends, but still… it wasn’t the end of the world if he associated with some people other than the idiots. 

As he neared the door, he automatically heard the heavy breathing of Not-Spiderman (he was denying the possibility of his identity because he was not mentally ready to deal with having to actually talk to the people here, and if he told Sero, he would freak and make him talk to strangers.) trying to calm down. Through the door, he could faintly hear Not-Spiderman trying to engage in conversation with Baldy, who was not reciprocating. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost. It kind of reminded him of himself and Kirishima, Eijirou desperately trying to form a friendship, and Bakugou not having any of that bullshit. He should probably save him from emotional devastation. He pushed open the door, and stepped into the room, rolling his eyes as he slumped into a chair and caught the guy’s hopeful look. It was almost like crushing the dreams of a puppy who just wanted to talk. Well, he didn’t want to talk, and he didn’t think Mystique, or whatever her name was, did either, so Not-Spiderman would just have to wait until the next friendship gremlin showed up. Good thing he was a cat person. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bakugou came close to that room and immediately had antisocial feral bitch solidarity with nebula and so he decided to help her by helping her ignore peter who doesn't deserve this slander send tweet
> 
> yes i did get the walmart entrapta bit from wonhae bunny's fic what about it  
> no cap tho im literally obsessed with their fics go check them out  
> this entire fic was basically just a half-formed cryptid-esque monstrosity that swam from the dark plunges of my last remaining braincell after reading blackugou widow and thinking ab bakugou and nat   
> not me being writing simp trash in the end notes


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow  
> we're finally here  
> my ability to procrastinate the entire ten pages of this and finally give up with trying to make it perfect and just posting it as it is... it astounds me sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay can someone pls tell me why the first two pages or so of a fanfic chapter are basically torture but from then on it's super easy, or as easy as it can get? pls?

The boy’s name was Peter Benjamin Parker, and he had been talking non-stop for the last 5 minutes about everything under the sun. Bakugou did not know the blue girl’s name, and she did not know his, the way he suspected they both liked it. He didn’t think the other guy noticed that neither of them were listening to him talk about Star Trek or whatever it was, and were instead communicating through a mixture of small gestures and deadpan facial expressions. She had asked him how long that kid would actually go on with a flick of her hand and a miniscule eye roll, and he had replied no idea, and that he thought her shoes were badass with a small shrug and nod. Now they were forced to listen to him go on about whatever he was rambling about, for an unspecified amount of time. For not the first time in the past few minutes, Bakugou wondered if this agency was really worth it. 

That was stupid. Of course Avengers fucking Initiave was worth it. Just because there was a very chatty, talkative person here that he would inevitably have to talk to did not mean that this was not worth it. It was totally worth it. Besides, it was only one person. One really goddamn annoying person. He could deal with one person. Especially since he got that set of official Earjack merch earphones, with more blockage for unwanted sound than ever before. And this kid was definitely producing unwanted sounds. Music was blasting through his headphones to drown out the incessant chatter, some song from the playlist he’d been playing when he got here. “Shut up and drive”, by Rihanna, a song most likely inspired by Jirou’s recent discovery of “Ocean’s Eight.”

Katsuki hated the fact that he’d actually had to pick up habits from fucking Deku, of all people (they might have been friends now, but their rivalry was still very much intact. Except now it came in the form of Uno, jeopardy and who could sprint back to the dorms after class the fastest) but this solidary one might be useful. The analytical tendencies he’d once mocked for being creepy had actually come in useful. He stood by it being creepy, though. Just because something was useful didn’t deter the inherent creepiness. 

By watching Peter’s hands and how they flew around like some kind of fucking windmill, leaving trails of the same material he saw on the stairs, and mentally comparing it with the person on the videos Sero would often send him, he had deduced that Peter Benjamin Parker and the infamous Spider-Man were one and the same. That might be a problem. Not only because of Tape-Face inevitably forcing him to talk to someone, but also because of his quirk. Nitroglycerin was a dangerous substance on it’s own, but his research had indicated that it reacted especially well with the spiderwebs coming out of Parker’s hands. If that kid was shooting a web that was still attached to his hand, and one of Bakugou’s explosions caught onto that, it would most likely detonate the entire web string, towards the web-shooter, and explode in a fiery display of burnt flesh and ripped-off arms. Not a pretty picture. He’d always known his quirk was destructive- how could he not- but those thoughts were horrific. He’d need to steer clear of Spiderman. 

The other person in the room was sort of an enigma. The blue skin wasn’t the thing that gave it away- he’d known Raccoon Eyes long enough to know that quirks often affected skin colour, making them unnatural colours to help accommodate the quirk. They seemed pretty similar, actually. Her aversion to people, and general sense of style was similar to his own, and they had a mutual understanding that neither of them would encourage Parker, and instead just blast music through their headphones and ignore him. Her quirk seemed cool too, or as much as he could gather of it. It looked like cyberbionic implants, with lots of different functions, and pretty dangerous. The creaking of the door startled them (Bakugou knew Stark Industries definitely had enough money to oil the hinges. Was it just an aesthetic choice?) and he pulled out his headphones to see someone entering the room, much to the relief of Parker, who was most likely desperately hoping that whoever the next initiate was wasn’t an antisocial intimidating bundle of anger and edginess. 

“Hello, fellow future avengers. Oh,  _ nice, _ is your quirk cyberbionic implants?”

Door-kicker had burst into the room (the creaking was most likely because she had slammed into the door in the effort to make a dramatic entrance) and had started to zero in on the cyborg lookalike, looking at her machine parts with a strange mix of wonder and an analytical scrutinisation that was actually pretty reminiscent of Deku’s old hero notebooks. Blue girl immediately shook her off angrily, showing more emotion than she had in the last 5 minutes combined. 

“Get the fuck off. And technically, they’re cybernetic. Similar, though.”

New girl looked mystified, keeping her distance from the robotic arm, but still staring in amazement, making mental notes on everything from the dimensions to the wiring going into her joints.

“Wait, is that a neuro-synaptic drive implant in your head? I’m guessing you get glitches if it’s in contact with another drive with the same mainframe in close quarters, granting them access to each other’s contents? I could fix that for you?”

“Uh-”

Bakugou couldn’t resist talking then. Maybe it was his curiosity finally taking over, or maybe it was his stupid engineering obsession. There was a reason he’d gone over to the workshop at U.A so much, long after Denki had given up on Mei. For a while he worked at the car mechanics, just getting the grease under his fingernails and figuring out all the wiring and everything else he loved. Sure, part of the reason he switched from fixing up the cars at the mechanics to working on projects at the official workshop was because it meant he could get shirtless to work and tease Kirishima about coming to see him work for no reason at all, but he also just loved getting to fix something that was broken. 

“You got a cybernetic message communicator in there? Or computer interfacing?”

She looked at him a little strangely after the question - which was expected. No-one really expected him to be into science, just all brawn and no brains. The new girl was mystified, though, slowly going from analysing the robotic arm to looking up at his face, to the girl’s again.

“Wait, he’s right. Do you? Also, do you have bionic visual enhancements, and do those give you the capability to relay holographic light projections?”

“Yeah- Yeah, I got those. Holographs glitch out a bit, though. I’m working on that. I’m Nebula. You?”

The new girl straightened up and threw herself into the seat, sitting cross legged like she was in fucking elementary school, and grinning at them, while Parker watched on in utter desperation at the fact that she could make them talk, and he did not have that ability.

“I’m Shuri Udaku, bad bitch supreme. What about you, blondie? I can see all the nitroglycerin on your hands, so you’re either a villain in disguise or you have a super kick-ass quirk. My quirk’s Machine, by the way. I can see through any machine, check out the inner working of it, that sort of thing. Yours?”

Bakugou leaned back into the chair, unconsciously flexing his wrist in the slightly itchy fabric of the fingerless gloves, and very aware of how interested Shuri was that he was also into engineering, and how much Parker wanted to talk to all three of them but he had no idea how, and that Nebula seemed like the sanest and most like him out of all of them.

“Name’s Katsuki Bakugou. My quirk is Explosion- I sweat nitroglycerin, and can detonate it.”

Before Shuri could inevitably ask him a question about the inner workings of his quirk and biological structure, Parker raised his hand meekly like they were still in fucking preschool, and began to speak.

“Um- my name’s Peter Parker, and I honestly had no clue what you guys were talking about, but I’m just glad we’re talking now and I can get to know you guys! My quirk’s web shooting, I basically just produce web fluid, and I can shoot it! Kind of like that kid from the japanese hero school but, uh, different, because his quirk is tape from his elbows, and that’s so much cooler than mine.”

It took a few deep breaths and the mental image of some oddly satisfying youtube video to calm him down after that. He was trying his hardest to keep his emotions internal, because ew, emotions, and also if the avengers were watching this (and he was pretty sure they were- over the years, he’d gotten an acute sense of knowing when a camera was on him, and where it was, and he was about 99% sure there was at least three active cameras in there) he did not want them to know he was some nutjob with anger issues. 

Was this going to be his life? Being roped into setting up two idiot losers who had a celebrity crush on each other? It would be so easy to just not tell them. So  _ easy _ . However, he did really want to see the expression on Parker’s face when Katsuki told him they went to the same school.

“You mean Sero Hanta? From U.A?”

A dreamy look came over his face, and he sank into his seat, blissfully unaware of the looks Nebula and Bakugou were trading each other. (in the past 7-and-a-half minutes, they’d formed some sort of alliance based on not wanting to talk and being the coolest bitches in there.)

“Yeah. I saw the Sports Festival, in his first year, and he went up against this guy who could shoot ice out of his hands, and he basically froze the entire stadium! Totally an unfair fight, but I would love to train with him someday! He seems really cool though, so I doubt he’s heard of me.” 

“I went to the same high school as him. Trust me, he’s not cool. He once tripped over thin air and crashed into a bottle of pepper spray. It took 5 hours before he could open his eyes again.”

Parker seemed vaguely perturbed at the story, but still just as infatuated with Tape-Face, until precisely what he said registered in his feeble mind. 

“Wait.  _ What _ ?!”

Before he could bombard Bakugou with questions, the door once again swung open and someone else entered the room, and sat down on the chair next to Nebula. Shuri immediately shifted forward, sitting on the edge of her seat to interrogate her, collecting information on every new initiate.

“Name and quirk?”   
  


“Um...I’m Ava Starr, otherwise known as Ghost, and my quirk is Intangibility. I can basically phase through objects, walls, and the visible spectrum.”

Shuri began to introduce everyone else, including Nebula, who was determinedly staring down at her hands. Huh. Just as Ava began to ask about what the weird webbing material on the stairs was, microphone feedback began to make its way up to the building window. Bakugou leaned out of the window to see a police car parked outside, and the officer using his megaphone to talk to someone standing on the steps. Shuri shook her head sadly at his predicament, and began to record it.

“He’s probably another one of the new initiates.”

“Mmn.”

The people on the street seemed to have the same idea, giggling at the poor boy getting gradually more and more annoyed. Eventually, the police officer stopped and drove away, waving at the kid as he quickly mounted the rest of the steps and sped into the building. The group of teenagers settled down onto their chairs again, and waited for him to enter the room. Soon enough, he opened the squeaky door and settled down in a chair, probably hoping to god they hadn’t seen his situation out on the entrance. 

“Um… hi. I’m Miles Morales.”

Bakugou leaned forward on his seat and gave the newcomer a slanted, slightly sadistic grin, much to the happiness of Shuri, who had started to slyly record again, and Nebula, who was watching their budding conversation with morbid interest, and even Peter was sitting forward, watching the exchange happen. 

“Hi, Miles. You love your dad, huh?”

“Okay I don’t know who you are, but fuck you. Changing the subject! How many of you are excited to be meeting the Avengers!”

Nebula shrugged, looking weirdly unbothered by the whole thing. Even Bakugou was excited to meet the Avengers- even though he would obviously never let people know that. Emotions were for the weak.

“Eh. I’ve met three of the Guardians already. Starlord is basically my weird uncle that I barely ever see. Gamora is my older sister. I am excited to meet Black Widow, though. She seems cool.”

“Holy shit, really? You’re  _ Gamora’s _ sister? Hold up- Gamora has a sister?”

Ava spoke up, looking at Nebula like she was some sort of magical creature. Made sense- Gamora was one of the coolest heroes, right up there with Black Widow and Iron Man. Shuri looked excited at the prospect of someone being able to give her more information about her new favorite test subject, but also about the Avengers.

“I get that. I mean, I wanna meet Tony Stark because his suits are cool and all, but also my brother’s Black Panther, so I’m not that starstruck by him, seeing as I’ve lived with him for my entire life and have a camera album dedicated to his embarrassing but oh-so-funny failures.”

Before Peter and Ava could bombard them with questions (Ava definitely seemed to have a celebrity crush on Gamora), the door opened to reveal another girl, with brunette hair and chipped red nail polish. 

“Uh, hi? Is this where the new Avenger Initiates are supposed to go? I’m Wanda, by the way.”

She seemed to have some sort of Eastern European accent, almost reminiscent of better sounding and looking Doctor Doofensmirch. After a confirmation of her question and more introductions (Bakugou was starting to get really sick of those. Maybe they should just wait until everybody got there and then introduce themselves.) they revived the conversation, starting with Peter.

“So, aren't you guys worried about making a fool in front of your idol, and then having to live with them for the next three years? Especially you, Miles. If we saw that, then they probably did too.”

“Oh. Fuck. Well, never mind. Not like War Machine and Black Widow were probably watching. Yeah.”

Ava started to say something, mainly looking at Nebula as she talked, feeding into Bakugou’s growing suspicion that she had a thing for Gamora. 

“He’s got a point. I mean, if I had known I’d be doing this program with Gamora’s little  _ sister _ , I definitely would have made a better first impression. 

Nebula looked out the window determinedly, muttering something that sounded a lot like “your impression was fine”, and before Ava could answer, Shuri butted in, saving Nebula from a lifetime of embarrassment, and instead giving it to Ava.

“Wow, do you have a crush on Gamora or something? No shade, I’m pretty sure everyone had a crush on a cool fighter lady at some point. For me it was my brother’s girlfriend, but each to her own.”

Ava’s face erupted into a tomato blush, spreading across every inch of her affronted face.

“I do not! It is perfectly normal to admire someone without wanting to kiss them! Right, Wanda?”

All eyes turned to Wanda as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 

“I mean, seeing as I thought I admired Vision as a hero, and simultaneously used to write Vision x reader domestic au historical sitcom fanfiction, so I don’t really think you want me to be the deciding vote.”

The room was quiet for a second while everyone turned to look at Wanda, each expressing some kind of emotion that they couldn’t exactly describe. 

“Really?”

Nebula asked, a bewildered expression on her cobalt face. Wanda turned to Nebula, slightly affronted at the question, but mainly just wanting to stop talking about it.

“Yes, really. It’s completely normal, a ton of people do it. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that everyone in this room has either read or written a piece of fan media about the hero profession.”

“Okay, yeah, bet. What about Bakugou?”

Bakugou took a deep breath, weighing the options of what to do next. He could always support Nebula’s point, which would save him mortal embarrassment. However, lying probably wasn’t the best way to start off a three year long collaboration.

“When I was in middle school, I beta’d my classmates All Might x David Shield fanfiction, complete with All Might being the reader’s father figure and mentor. So.” 

Bakugou was distinctly aware of everyone trying their best to not sound like a complete moron as they laughed their heads off. It wasn’t that funny. He wasted years reading and critiquing Deku’s stupid fanfiction. Although, he never passed up an opportunity to unnecessarily criticise someone. 

Soon, the door opened again, and in stormed a practically fuming blonde girl holding a handful of the disintegrating webbing from the stairs. She pointed at Peter, who at this point was looking increasingly terrified.

“You stole my quirk, you fucking dipshit!”

“What? No I didn’t! Maybe we just have similar quirks?”

Miles slowly stood up, getting in the middle of the newcomer and Peter.

“Don’t mean to add even more to the situation, but that’s my quirk too. Do we all have similar variations of the same quirk?”

If they listened closely, from a few floors and stairways away, they could almost hear Steve Roger’s massive facepalm.

“I told you this would happen, Tony!”

“Eh, they’ll sort it out. It's just teenage drama, they’ll get over it. What, Cap, sad because your teenage years are so long away? It must be hard, seeing the youth interact like you never did-”

“I’m not that old!”

Bruce raised a placating hand, slowly pushing Tony’s spinny chair away from the cup of coffee his hand was slowly inching towards. 

“Guys, Tony’s right, they’re teenagers. They’ll work it out. Besides, do any of us actually know how to deal with kids? Last time all the new initiates were in their mid-twenties at least, and I’m pretty sure none of us know how to handle a teenager. We’ll just let them work it out. Cool?”

Steve grumbled, but let it slide, and returned to watching the security camera footage. It was true- they weren't exactly well-versed in interacting with teenagers. Tony offered him some doritos, as a peace offering, and as they watched the ensuing conversation enfold, they leaned closer to the screen, all thoughts of Steve’s age and what stupid novelty doritos Clint had bought this time forgotten.

“So all three of you have the same quirk?”

Peter, Miles and the newly named Gwen turned to look at Shuri, who immediately dropped the subject and raised her hands in surrender. Gwen slumped back down into her seat, quickly followed by Miles and Peter, and covered her face with her hands, making her next words come out muffled.

“I cannot believe this shit. Literally, what are the chances that we all have the same quirk?”

“I think it’s pretty cool. We should form a club or something!”

Gwen, Nebula and Bakugou rolled their eyes simultaneously, having a split second understanding of how fucking stupid Peter’s statement was. 

“No way. You guys can form your little nerd club or something, but leave me out of it. Hey, you, blondie, tell them it’s stupid.”

Bakugou suppressed the urge to flip her off at the word “blondie” (that didn’t even make  _ sense _ , she was fucking blonde too) and looked at Miles, choosing to ignore Peter for the time being because his whole puppy-dog-eyes thing was starting to get on his nerves.

“She’s kind of right. When I watched Deadpool, and saw Negasonic Teenage Warhead, or whatever her unnecessarily long fucking name is, I almost lost it. It especially sucks when their quirk is a superpowered version of yours. 

Everyone else watching the little “Spider Showdown”, as Shuri had for some reason dubbed it, nodded and made various noises of agreement. Gwen seemed to have calmed down by now, and had gotten over the fact that she shared a quirk with two of her new teammates. Bakugou couldn’t imagine doing that- it had taken him weeks to get over Deku stealing his moves for that stupid U.A training thing. 

“Who cares, anyway. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Almost everyone in the immediate vicinity breathed a sigh of relief- it would have done them no good to be associated in a fight, especially this early in the programme. After a couple more introductions of name and quirk (Bakugou sincerely hoped these were the last ones) where Gwen got to know exactly who she had been yelling at, Peter tried to spark up the conversation again by talking about the one thing Bakugou had hoped against hope he would forget about. Tape Face.

“So. Sero Hanta. I just wanna know-”

Before he even had time to get the first few words of his sentence out, the door swung open, and all thoughts of how tenuous it would be to introduce themselves all over again were dispelled from his head in favour of complete and utter relief at the fact that Bakugou wouldn’t have to interact with another human being for an extended period of time. At least, that was what he thought until he saw who was standing in the doorway, and his mind completely shut down.

“Hello, assorted teenagers. I’m Tony Stark, and you’re watching Disney Channel. Welcome to the Avengers Compound! These are the infamous Steve Rogers and Thor Odinson, and we’re gonna be your tour guides. Right this way, if you please.”

  
All of the initiates seated in the room gave each other a wide-eyed startled look, as if to say to each other “is that the real fucking Antony Edward Stark or am I just off my meds”, and after a brief recalibration period, they filed out of the room behind Iron Man, Captain America and goddamn motherfucking _THOR_ (Bakugou was definitely not over the fact that he was meeting the top heroes in the whole entirety of America) to take a tour around the Avengers facilities- and their new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deku wrote crossover fanfic for all might and steve fite me  
> that's all folks gn (or morning idk how american timezones work.)


End file.
